


Eggnog

by py_pippi_pixy



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 08:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18824710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/py_pippi_pixy/pseuds/py_pippi_pixy
Summary: Written for sabrequeen for tw_ficexchange, prompt: a quiet Christmas.  LOL PORN WAT IDK THNX bammel AND lessofmyhead





	Eggnog

It was quiet in Ianto's flat, only dim light from the streets filtering in the windows through the light snow falling outside. It was nice after the unpredictable traffic of people making their way home from holiday parties or relatives' houses. The bedroom was cold - the heat had been turned low while Ianto was at work.   
  
Of course, work had turned into a last-minute Christmas party, complete with Gwen bringing in eggnog and Owen supplying brandy. The Rift was inactive, possibly due to the cold, which was Jack's theory. Even the Weevils were staying out of the weather, letting Torchwood turn up the heat in the Hub and break into Jack's supply of aged alcohol while the eggnog chilled.   
  
Eventually everyone had trickled out, though, heading for home, in Gwen's case, or whatever passed for it, for everyone else. Jack had even gotten the unusual pleasure of Ianto hanging off his arm on the way to the SUV, asking him for a ride home and  _maybe something more_  with what had almost been a giggle underneath the thickened accent.   
  
Now safely horizontal on the bed, Jack looked down at Ianto's face, a little drowsy and flushed with alcohol.   
  
"To think, you were so against the idea of boozing it up for Christmas," he laughed, unzipping Ianto's jacket. "And here you are, don't even want to take your coat off, making me undress you."   
  
"It's not professional, and I'm not making you do anything," Ianto muttered, frowning a tiny bit and swatting at Jack's hands. "You  _volunteered_."   
  
"I did," Jack said, gently relocating Ianto's hands to the bedspread. "Christmas Eve just wouldn't be the same without driving a drunk employee home."   
  
Ianto was busy trying to coordinate an eye-roll, and Jack took advantage of the distraction to slide the jacket off and start on the jeans. A little surprisingly, Ianto was half-hard against his wrist.   
  
"I forgot the tolerance of youth," he said, stroking up Ianto's inseam. "Or possibly the tolerance of practice - let it never be said the Welsh don't try and live up to the Irish."   
  
“Stop taking my nationality in vain,” Ianto said, reaching down for Jack’s hand.   
  
It took him a few flailing tries before he caught it, but when he did he pulled surprisingly hard, collapsing Jack, who exhaled sharply, on top of him. When the other one of those surprisingly cold hands pulled his head down to meet a mouth open and waiting for him, Jack couldn’t help smiling into the other man. Ianto tasted like cinnamon and brandy.   
  
“How much eggnog did you drink?” Jack asked, pulling back a little to allow Ianto’s hand to work between their bodies.   
  
“Rather a lot, I think,” Ianto said, biting his lower lip in concentration and effectively distracting Jack from anything else he might have said. “Gwen kept handing me a new-”   
  
It only took a second for Ianto to catch up with the switch from talking to kissing, but he’d always been a quick study. Ianto's mouth was hot, alcohol bringing blood to the surface of his skin and adding a slight burn to their kiss. Ianto's hand was busy working its way into Jack's trousers, fumbling buttons a little but seeming to have no problem with finding his cock. A few quick strokes and Jack was fully hard, reacting to Ianto's lack of inhibition as the other man twisted against him, moaning into Jack's mouth.   
  
"God, you're fucking hot like this," Jack muttered into Ianto's ear, biting softly at the earlobe and working his way down Ianto's throat, lips and teeth rasping over the slight beginnings of stubble.   
  
Ianto groaned and used his free hand to grab Jack's, pulling it down to his unbuttoned jeans. Thumbing the zipper down, Jack pulled down the jeans and pants, rubbing his fingers over the head of Ianto's dick. Sucking on the man's collarbone, he worked his hand quickly, Ianto quietly panting above his head and slurring words he couldn't quite make out. Movement on his own cock ceased, but that was a small price to pay for Ianto squirming underneath him like he couldn't get enough contact.   
  
The room was quiet except for Ianto and the sound of skin on skin - Jack thought for a moment how nice it was to have everything outside tuned out, to get Ianto to focus on the moment and to get to focus his own attention in turn. And then Ianto was coming, almost completely silent, fingers shifting around to grip Jack's hip.   
  
Jack grinned into Ianto's neck while the other man came down, breathing starting to slow down.   
  
"My turn," Jack said, moving so that Ianto was shifted half on top of him. Ianto flashed a quick smile and knelt between Jack's legs. A few minutes of Ianto's mouth hot on him had Jack coming, fingers weaving through Ianto's hair.   
  
"S'not as nice as the eggnog was," Ianto muttered, sitting back and watching Jack.   
  
Jack burst out laughing and pulled his own shirt finally off, offering it to Ianto while he took care of his socks and trousers. Meanwhile, Ianto was wiggling the rest of the way out of his jeans, and pushing all the excess bits of clothes off the bed.   
  
"It's freezing in here," Jack said, pulling the bedspread over himself.   
  
"No, it's perfect," Ianto said, crawling under the corner Jack was holding up for him and then flopping onto his belly.   
  
"It's cold, and you'll be cold too when you wake up," Jack said, pulling Ianto closer to him so that he could take advantage of alcohol-heated skin.   
  
"Mmhhmm."   
  
The other man was already fading, and that somehow made the decision to stay easier. Christmas could get lonely, but sharing a bed with a gorgeous young man often helped.   
  
"I wonder what you'll let me do to you if I bring vodka in on New Year's Eve," Jack whispered into Ianto's ear.   
  
"Nothing, if you don't shut up and let me sleep," Ianto muttered against the other man's shoulder.   
  
"Santa doesn't bring presents to rude secretaries," Jack countered, indignantly pulling the covers higher but closing his mouth.   
  
He could hear Ianto's breathing slow down and deepen, and it was finally getting warm under the comforter. Stroking a hand idly over the skin of Ianto's arm, Jack closed his eyes and listened to the snow softly hit the windowpane.


End file.
